


Conversion of the Righteous Man

by trollmela



Series: Conversion [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 16:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trollmela/pseuds/trollmela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn’t easy to get used to your brother dating the devil. Dean didn’t really mean to try either. Lucifer, in the meantime, is having trouble with his vessel and is forced to call on help from one of his own brothers – and let’s not forget that there are still jobs to be done, the devil selling cars being just one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conversion of the Righteous Man

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [义人的转变/Conversion of the Righteous Man](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2333090) by [lengyu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lengyu/pseuds/lengyu)



> 4th story (and so far last story) in the Conversion verse.
> 
> Some dialogue was taken from episodes, like a bit from 5.06 I Believe The Children Are Our Future.

_"Where to?"_

_Lucifer looked up at the sky._

_"I don’t think it matters," he answered._

_Sam gave him a confused look. Lucifer smiled at him._

_"That’s a good thing. It means we can go wherever we want; if my Father judges me worthy, He'll find us."_

_Sam made to reply but before he could do so, his phone rang. He reached into his jacket pocket and took it out. Glancing at the display, he froze._

_"Who is it?" Lucifer asked._

_"It’s Dean." Sam said weakly. Conflicted, he looked at the archangel. The phone continued to ring in his palm and he ached for a simpler life where he didn’t have to worry about whether he’d have to decide between his archangel boyfriend who happened to be the devil and his monster-hunting and hating brother._

_It didn’t take Lucifer long to decide. The angel had known Dean would call sooner or later and they had put off the confrontation long enough._

_"Answer it. He'll want to see you."_

_"I’m not sure that’s a good idea."_

_"You want to see him, too, don’t you? Don’t turn him away now."_

_Sam swallowed. Not taking his eyes off his lover, he accepted the call._

* * *

"Are you nervous?"

Sam tapped his fingers against the gas pump. "A bit," he replied. Lucifer was watching him in a way that suggested that he could easily see through the hunter’s flimsy answer.

"If we go back on the road together, we’ll have to sell our car," the human noted, eying the Mustang he was currently filling up for the last stretch of their journey.

Lucifer graciously didn’t mention that he had never wanted or needed a car, meaning that the car wasn’t actually "theirs". Sam had been the one to insist on taking the conventional, _human_ way of traveling. The archangel looked away.

"What if Dean won’t accept us?" He asked. ‘Won’t accept _me_ ’, he meant. "Would you want me to leave?"

"No," Sam said, but in fact he was struggling himself. He wondered whether Castiel had already told Dean about Lucifer. And whether he wished that the angel had prepared Dean or not; whether a ready-to-use ring of holy oil was better than a surprised reaction.

"I think it would be best if I spoke to Dean first," the hunter continued.

Lucifer merely looked back at him.

* * *

The day before they met Dean, they beat their personal record of how many times a day they could have sex. It was also Lucifer’s first time experiencing car sex.

* * *

"Sam," Dean greeted him.

The younger hunter didn’t react as his brother reached into his jacket and unsheathed the demon killing knife. After a moment of contemplation, Dean held it out, hilt first.

"If you're serious and you want back in...", he began, "you should hang on to this. I'm sure you're rusty.”

Sam hesitantly accepted the knife, not meeting Dean’s gaze. How did you tell your brother that you were sleeping with the enemy? How did you tell him that you’d done the same thing all over again that started the apocalypse?

"What made you change your mind?" He asked instead, stalling for time.

"Long story. The point is... maybe we are each other's Achilles heel. Maybe they'll find a way to use us against each other, I don't know. I just know we're all we've got. More than that. We keep each other human."

The younger man nodded. He looked back towards his car. Lucifer was there, waiting and watching them as he leant against the hood of the vehicle. He was waiting for Sam’s okay.

"I’m not alone," he admitted.

Dean looked towards the stranger. He had seen him the moment Sam had pulled up the dirt road. He had even felt hurt that his brother had seemingly done perfectly well without him and replaced him within such a short time.

"No more lies," the younger hunter went on. "This is not like before." He ignored that it was very much like before. "I’m Lucifer’s vessel. He told me."

"Who told you?" Dean demanded. The fact that he didn’t question the news but rather the bearer told Sam that Dean already knew more than he would admit.

"Lucifer."

Dean visibly paled. "The devil? How did he find you?"

Sam shrugged. He’d never asked and now, it didn’t matter anymore anyway.

"And he let you go?" His brother continued.

"He’s still with me." And when the older hunter frowned, perhaps simply refusing to make the connection, he added: "We’ve come to an agreement. Don’t take this the wrong way, I want us to be together again. But Lucifer, he loves me. As far as he’s concerned, the apocalypse has been called off. And I won’t leave him."

When Dean finally managed to get air back into his lungs he asked in a low, deadly voice:

"Is this some _joke_?"

Sam winced. Dean always sounded like this just before shouting. Still, he shook his head. And true to his expectations, Dean starting bellowing:

"Are you _fucking kidding me_?!"

Now God had better help them.

"If I thought it would do any good," Dean continued through gritted teeth, "I’d shoot him right now. Did you think instead of letting him ride your ass figuratively it would be better if you’d let him do it _literally_?"

Sam swallowed heavily, gazing at the ground, but remained firmly between Dean and his lover.

"How could you?" Dean continued in a low voice, shaking his head in disbelief. "How?"

The younger brother could hear stones and earth shifting behind him, signaling that Lucifer was approaching them. Sam didn’t know whether that was a very good thing, or a very, very bad thing.

"You’re Michael’s vessel," Lucifer remarked.

"Tell me something I don’t know," Dean snapped.

"What you just said reminded me so much of Michael one could think he’d already taken you as his vessel."

"No one is riding _my_ ass!"

Surprisingly, Lucifer didn’t react to Dean’s insults. "Call for Castiel," he suggested.

The older Winchester clenched his fists, clearly restraining himself from taking a swing.

"So you can smite him on the spot when he shows up?!"

"Dean," Sam admonished. "Castiel already knows."

His brother froze. Sam knew the look that crossed his face next all too well: betrayal.

"Castiel," Lucifer called softly. Dean glared at him.

Sam would have preferred Dean to continue glaring at Lucifer to the truly hurt look he wore when the fluttering of wings heralded Castiel’s appearance.

The angel stared at Dean, knowing exactly what went through Dean’s head.

"Dean-" he started.

"Don’t even start! Just don’t!" Dean rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache behind his eyes coming on.

Sam cleared his throat. "I’m sorry, Dean. Maybe I should have told you on the phone."

His brother chuckled weakly without humor. "Not sure that would have been that much better."

"Somebody wanna tell me how you both got to be BFF with Satan?"

"I didn’t know who he was when I met him," Sam began. "But I liked him. I took the risk. I guess we… fell in love." He ignored Dean’s guffaw. "He’ll help us."

"Oh yeah? He tell you that? And how do you know he’s not lying? It’s not as if angels haven’t lied to us before and correct me if I’m wrong, but fallen ones are even worse."

"I’m not lying," Lucifer protested.

Again, Dean laughed sarcastically. "I’ve heard that one before way too many times."

"I’d know," the other angel argued.

"Please, come on! You didn’t know about Uriel either!" Dean reproached him. Even he knew that he was being unfair, but at that moment, he didn’t care.

Lucifer stepped past Sam until he was directly in front of Dean. "What proof do you want from me?" He demanded.

To be truthful, Dean didn’t know himself. He didn’t want proof, he just wanted Lucifer _gone_.

* * *

"I’ll take a glass of rum please." The archangel’s eyes never left Sam as he ordered, his whole manner making it obvious that his order was anything but a coincidence.

The younger hunter didn’t really appreciate the humor. He would never forget the time the archangel had spilled rum on his naked body and then licked it off. But now was not the time to think of that.

While the meeting hadn’t ended in bloodshed or guns being used, it had ended with Dean saying: _"I need to think about this."_

"Coming right up."

Now they were in a bar although it was almost too early to be drinking. Castiel had followed Dean, perhaps trying to explain their reasoning, but if Sam knew anything about his brother, then it was how difficult changing Dean’s mind was.

Sam stuck to beer, although he was tempted to drink something with more alcohol in it. But if Dean called and Sam was drunk, taking care of the situation would take even longer.

The barkeeper was quick with their order and thankfully, did not linger around within earshot.

"So," Lucifer began, "I assume we’re going to remain here until your brother makes up his mind one way or another?"

The Winchester nodded mutely.

"Right." Lucifer could see that his lover wasn't in the mood to talk. And unlike most humans, the archangel didn't need to constantly talk with his lover. He could enjoy Sam's presence just as well in silence.

Castiel joined them half an hour later. Lucifer ordered a drink for him which the angel, to Sam's great surprise, accepted wordlessly.

"Did you manage to convince Michael's vessel that I won't harm Sam?" Lucifer asked casually.

"He doesn't believe you, no. He wanted to be alone, but I believe he will be back tomorrow."

Sam wasn't so certain, but didn't comment. Perhaps his morose mood was the reason that when Lucifer ordered more drinks, Sam didn't resist and drank every glass his lover put down in front of him. By the time the bar closed, his vision swam and Lucifer had to help him back to their room. Castiel looked like he didn't know whether to help or not and finally he announced that he would continue the search for God.

Sam didn't register much after that except his own head hitting the pillow and Lucifer pulling the shoes off his feet.

 

Predictably, he woke up with a hangover. Lucifer wasn't there so Sam dragged himself out of bed and into the shower. He felt slightly more human afterwards and fit enough to go look for food. A glance at his cell phone revealed a message from Dean, sent around two am.

_Meet u for breakfast at Philippe_

Breakfast usually meant nine-ish and it was a quarter past, so Sam gathered his keys and wallet and sent a short text which said: _Coming._

Outside, an unusual picture greeted him. Lucifer was in deep conversation with a man in his fifties and it appeared that they were talking about the Mustang as they were standing in front of it.

"16,000, that's a good price," the man was saying.

"It is," Lucifer confirmed. Sam had paid 12,000.

"What's going on?" Sam inquired.

The archangel turned to him with a small smile. "Sam, this is Phil. He's interested in buying our car. I thought since we don't need it anymore, we could sell it."

"I'll take it," Phil declared, looking content with his decision.

"Of course," Lucifer replied smoothly, turning to the other human again. "It's yours as soon as you've paid."

Before Phil could reply, Sam interrupted them: "Would you excuse us for a moment?" He requested sweetly, not actually waiting for an answer before dragging Lucifer away.

"What are you doing?" He hissed once out of immediate earshot.

"I'm selling the car," the archangel replied. Clearly he still didn't see anything wrong with that.

"You're ripping that guy off!"

Lucifer shook his head. "He wants to have the car. Usually his wife wouldn't permit him to but…"

"You're _manipulating_ him?" Sam demanded incredulously. "We don't even know whether we'll need the car yet!"

"We won't. Dean sent you a message last night to your cell phone. He wants you to join him again."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just… don't make Phil regret this too much, will you?"

The younger man turned around quickly enough not to see the small smirk on the devil's face. It was quite possible that he had known how his lover would react and done this on purpose.

 

Sam hurried across the street to the diner called Philippe. If it hadn't been the better diner out of three – the other two being awful – Dean would probably never have been caught dead in it.

"Took you long enough," Dean groused when Sam finally dropped into the seat across from him.

"Sorry," Sam apologized. "I slept in."

"Right." Dean sighed audibly. Clearly what he was about to say next was going to take a lot of effort. It gave Sam hope that Lucifer had been correct.

But before his brother could actually say anything, a waiter came to their table to take Sam's orders. Once the man had left, Dean said:

"I was wrong. We're not stronger apart, we're weaker. I want you back with me but I really wasn't expecting you to have hooked up with the devil."

Sam nodded mutely. He could imagine what a shock that must have been for his brother and he wondered whether whatever Castiel had said had had any effect.

"Castiel says you've got him…" Dean grimaced, "kissing your feet. Or whatever. I really don't want to know."

"He'll be around," Sam cautioned. "I probably couldn't leave him even if I wanted to. And if you can't handle that, we're going to have a problem again sooner or later. That's the last thing we can afford at the moment."

His brother chuckled bitterly. "Believe me, I know." He gave Sam a searching look. "Doesn't this remind you of Ruby at all?"

Sam bit his lip, uncertain what to say. "You're right," he admitted. "This should remind me of Ruby. But it doesn't."

"I can't promise that I can let it go just like that."

"I know that's too much to expect. But Castiel is okay with it."

"Castiel also listened to a bunch of jerks up in Heaven. That's not an argument."

"Then you'll just have to give Lucifer a chance and decide yourself."

"Then tell me: how exactly do you think we’re going to stop the apocalypse?"

"Lucifer wanted to look for God. But we found out from… a source that God prefers finding _us_ once the time is right."

"A source?" Dean raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I want to know. Anyway, Cas has gone for the same route. Can't say I expect a lot."

"I don't think Lucifer has told Castiel about what he heard yet. I'll let him know the next time we see him."

"Okay then. Until we find God or God finds us, I guess we're back in the business of ghouls, spirits and poltergeists."

Dean didn't look all that unhappy about the prospects. Compared to what fate had thrown at them lately, spirits, poltergeists and all the other stuff they'd hunted before Dean had gone to Hell was easy.

"That's not all," Sam disagreed. "Heaven and the rest of Hell still want the Apocalypse. We may have to intervene there as well."

"When the time comes," Dean agreed.

* * *

When Sam returned to the motel room, Lucifer was waiting for him, reading the day's paper on their bed.

"Did you sell the car?" Sam asked.

"Yes," the archangel replied and pointed to a pile of money on the bedside table. "16,000$."

The human flipped through the bills quickly, out of habit rather than to check whether Lucifer had said the truth, then dumped it all into a plastic bag.

"We're leaving," he explained.

"We are?"

"Yes," Sam answered with no small amount of pride in his voice, " _we._ "

Lucifer didn't need a second cue. He snapped his fingers, transferring all of Sam's possessions to his bags.

Sam gave his lover a look of fond exasperation.

"That's no fun," he admonished him.

He wouldn't have needed to pack much anyway, since he and Dean never unpacked more than they needed. Lucifer only smiled.

 

Dean was waiting for them in the car. Sam had missed the Impala. He had missed her creaks when he opened the door, he had missed the worn leather seats and Dean fondly patting the dashboard.

He put his bags into the trunk. Meanwhile, Lucifer was eyeing the car much like he had the Mustang, as if trying to determine whether the car was worth getting over himself.

"I usually sit in the back," Castiel announced.

Sam nearly flinched at the angel's unexpected appearance and swung around.

Lucifer merely looked up. Without saying anything, he disappeared and reappeared in the back seat. Castiel opened the door nearest to him.

"Dean prefers it if we use the door like 'normal people'."

Then he got in next to the archangel and Sam took the passenger seat.

"I'm not a 'normal person'," Lucifer replied. "I'm an archangel."

"Yeah, the devil himself, we know," Dean replied, pointedly adjusting the rearview mirror so he could keep an eye on the fallen angel. Then he pushed a tape in the cassette player to cut off any conversation.

 

And there they were: two brothers and two angels hunting, or rather, on a road trip to stop the apocalypse. On the way there, they had the chance to spend 16,000$ and an endless supply of grace.

At first, they merely drove with no set destination. Occasionally, Castiel left to look for God while Lucifer always stayed. Although he had told Cas what he had heard from Jesus, the younger angel wouldn't give up. And Dean seemed to be of the opinion that as long as Cas was happy doing that, he wouldn't keep him away.

As for Lucifer, the devil couldn't (or, more likely, wouldn't) keep his damn hands to himself. Sometimes, Dean got the impression that Lucifer did it just to irritate Dean. Sam quickly became aggravated with his lover and his brother constantly riling each other up.

When they stopped for the night, Sam and Lucifer shared one room and Dean insisted on taking the room next door. Apparently, not even the unmistakable sounds of sex would keep him away.

* * *

There were advantages to traveling with Satan. For one, he knew every single creepy monster in existence. Hunting was a child's game with him in tow. He could snap his fingers and burn a poltergeist to a crisp. Or burn a corpse without even digging up the grave.

Another reason was that the devil had a wicked sense of humor – one Dean could appreciate if he ignored just _who_ the angel was. Lucifer positively enjoyed sticking it to whoever he thought deserving of it. Generally he thought all humans deserved the worst but apparently Sam had enough influence over him that the archangel agreed to only cause trouble to homophobes, assholes and others who brought it on themselves. Dean usually sat back and watched with secret glee, which he would never have admitted out loud.

Their second hunt after their reunion led them to Nebraska. An evil Tooth Fairy breaking out a man’s teeth had caught their attention. Later, Dean would swear that Lucifer’s nostrils practically flared the minute they rolled into town.

Sam rose a questioning eyebrow at his lover.

“This is the home of an antichrist,” the archangel said.

“Shouldn’t it be _the_ antichrist?” Dean asked.

Lucifer didn’t seem inclined to answer until Sam shot him a questioning look.

“Humans could never get it right,” he finally explained. “An antichrist is not _my_ child, it’s any child sired by demons. They’re also called cambions and incredibly powerful. If they set their mind to it, they could kill the entire host of heaven with a thought. My presence on earth increases their power.”

“Great,” Dean snarked. “So what do we do?”

“We can make sure he doesn’t oppose us. As long as the demons don’t get ahold of him, they’re no danger.”

“How do we prevent that?” Sam questioned.

Lucifer shrugged. “It’s his decision.”

Sam sighed. “Let’s go find him, then.”

 

The antichrist’s name was Jesse Turner and he was about eight years old. Castiel, once he got in on the hunt, insisted that they should kill the boy. Dean and Sam argued against it and suggested taking him to Bobby, but were unable to convince the angel.

“I can't take that chance,” he said, then he disappeared.

For a moment, no one moved.

“Well, shit,” Dean remarked. And turning to Lucifer he added: “Aren’t you going to stop him?”

The archangel merely blinked. “Why? Castiel has a point. There is a risk that the antichrist decides to oppose us. If he’s dead, he doesn’t pose a risk anymore.”

“So you don’t even care?”

“No. Why would I? Jesse Turner means nothing to me.”

“Fuck this!” Dean said. “Come on, Sam, let’s go and try save this kid.” He took out the car keys and made for the door.

Sam didn’t follow right away. He was looking at his lover instead. “Would you stop Castiel as a favor to me? Please?”

Lucifer returned his gaze. Then, without another word, he flew off, presumably following Castiel, the flapping of his wings barely audible.

Dean frowned. “This is wrong in so many ways. But if you could do that all the time, I’m all for it.”

 

When they arrived at Jesse’s house and burst through the door, they found Lucifer and Jesse standing in the living room. The archangel was carefully studying something lying in the palm of his hand.

“Look at what Jesse made,” he said with a – in Dean’s eyes frankly creepy – smile.

It was an action figure. An action figure which looked exactly like Castiel, trench coat and suit and all, plus a silver knife. Later, they would laugh about it, but at the moment it was anything but laughable.

“Is that… Castiel?” Dean demanded.

“Yes, it is. Amazing, isn’t it?”

“I did that. But how did I do that?” Jesse asked.

Dean carefully took the Castiel action figure out of the devil’s hand and set it on the mantelpiece.

“You're a superhero,” the older Winchester replied.

“I am?”

If Dean had dared look away from the antichrist, he would have seen Lucifer rolling his eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah. I mean, who else could turn someone into a toy? You're Superman –minus the cape and the go-go boots. See, my… my partner and I, we work for a secret government agency. It's our job to find kids with special powers. In fact, we're here to take you to a hidden base in South Dakota, where you'll be trained to fight evil.”

“Oh please, let’s just cut to the chase, shall we?” Lucifer interrupted. “Jesse, you’re a cambion.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that whatever you believe, will come true,” Sam took over. “It means you can do anything you want.” Before he could say anything more, he was slammed into a wall.

Lucifer swung around. Julia, Jesse’s mother, stood by the door – possessed by a demon.

“My lord. I was not expecting to see you here,” the demon said.

The archangel smiled. “Of course you weren’t.”

“Who are you?” Jesse demanded of the demon.

She leant down a bit to be closer to the antichrist. “I'm your mother.”

“No, you're not.”

“Mm-hm. You're half human... half one of us.”

“She means demons, Jesse!” Dean interjected.

The demon stood and held up her clenched fist. Dean groaned, the pain cutting into him rendering him mute. “Don’t listen to them, they lie.”

“That’s enough,” Lucifer ordered. He lifted his hand and Sam barely had the time to cry out:

“Don’t kill her!”

Whether the archangel had ever had anything else in mind was unclear. He snapped his fingers and Julia’s body crumpled to the ground. Turning to Jesse, he said:

“She is right. You’re half demon and half human. Now you have a choice what you want to do with your life: do you want to join the other demons like her and destroy the world?”

The boy looked up at the archangel with a confused expression. Clearly this was too much to process.

“The demon was right, we did lie,” Sam took over. “So here's the truth. I'm Sam Winchester. That's my brother, Dean. W-we hunt monsters. And that is Lucifer.”

“Isn’t Lucifer the Devil? Shouldn’t you be in Hell?”

“I moved out,” the archangel replied.

Sam didn’t even know what to say to that. He continued:

“The woman right there, her name is Julia. She's your mother. But the thing inside of her, the thing that you were talking to—it's a demon.”

“A demon?”

“The demon is dead,” Lucifer put in. “But your mother is fine. She’s only sleeping.”

“There's, uh, kind of a...a war between angels and demons, and...you're a part of it.”

“I'm just a kid.”

“You can go join the other demons if you want. I can't stop you. No one can. But if you do...millions of people will die.”

A long silence followed. Dean was starting to fidget, fingers itching to take down Castiel from the mantelpiece. He didn’t.

Jesse looked desolate.

“What if I don’t want to fight?” He finally asked.

“Jesse…” Sam knelt down to look the boy in the eye. “You're powerful. More powerful than...pretty much anything we've ever seen. That makes you-“

“A freak.”

Sam winced. He’d repeated that word in his own head too often.

“To some people, maybe. But not to us. See, we're kind of freaks ourselves.”

“I can't stay here, can I?”

“No,” Dean replied. “The demons know where you are, and more will be coming.”

“I won't go without my mom and dad.”

“There's nothing more important than family. We get that,” Sam said. “And if you really want to take them with you, we'll back your play. But you got to understand: it's gonna be dangerous for them, too.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look, Jesse,” Dean picked up again. “Once you're in this fight, you're in it till the end, win or lose.”

Jesse looked at them, one of the after the other. “What should I do?”

“We can't tell you. It's your choice. It's not fair. I know.”

“Can I go see my parents? I, I need to... say goodbye.”

When the boy had gone upstairs, Lucifer remarked:

“You do realize that his parents are a target for demons regardless of whether the cambion leaves on his own or not.”

“Well, what were we supposed to say?” Dean shot back.

The archangel shrugged. “Nothing. You could have said whatever you wanted, it wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Thanks for that. Could you try being _more_ helpful?”

“I could.”

Lucifer smiled serenely and left. Sam was secure enough in the knowledge that whatever his lover was doing, it wouldn’t harm them. His brother didn’t look as if he felt the same.

 

Jesse Turner disappeared that night. Where to, neither Sam nor Dean knew. Castiel was finally liberated from his state as an action figure, and Lucifer didn’t comment the events until he and Sam were back in their hotel room.

“I told him how to protect himself against demons. If he’s smart, he’ll be fine.”

“Thanks,” Sam said, squeezing Lucifer’s shoulder. On second through, he bent down and gave him a chaste kiss.

The archangel looked pleased with himself.

“The demon today… she didn’t look as if she knew you defected,” the Winchester remarked.

“They don’t. In Hell they think that I simply haven’t shown myself in a while. I thought it might be useful for later, and I still need them for the blood at least. But I don’t expect this pretense to last long. The demon we met today is destroyed; we will meet others and word is going to get around.”

Sam nodded thoughtfully. Sometimes he still wasn’t comfortable discussing these things with his lover – the devil. The only reason Lucifer’s vessel Nick was still whole was that almost every demon they ran across – and some Sam never saw but Lucifer summoned to him elsewhere – forcibly donated their blood to the fallen archangel. He knew how lucky they were that Lucifer was on their side.

“Come here,” Lucifer said, reaching out and pulling the Winchester onto the bed he was sitting on.

Sam straddled his lover, leaning down to kiss him again, this time on the lips, and longer. To him, it looked like a good way to end the night.

* * *

Some weeks later, things were starting to go bad. Sam knew that something was wrong when Lucifer started avoiding him. He didn’t stay away – perhaps he couldn’t. But he was definitely avoiding standing too close to Sam, let alone having sex with him or even indulging in some light petting, in fact, avoiding anything that involved taking clothes off and/or touching. And to achieve this, he knew exactly what to say to hurt Sam and make sure the Winchester didn’t _want_ to be close to him.

Sam wanted to be patient. He really did. But they had the apocalypse to deal with and as strange as it was to say it, Lucifer was one of their own. They couldn’t lose him. They couldn’t risk him changing sides again.

So he did what any lover of an archangel would do: He brought the holy oil out.

"Sam, you’re not serious," Lucifer said when he saw it.

The Winchester swallowed hard. "Actually, I am. I need to know what’s going on. And I need to know now. If you don’t tell me, I’ll put you in a circle of holy oil and put a match to it until you’re tired of standing in the same damn place."

Lucifer stared at him but Sam wouldn’t back down. The archangel was the first one to look away.

"My vessel," he said.

"What about it?"

Wordlessly, Lucifer spread his fingers, showing Sam the spot in between his fingers and the red, open sores that marred his skin.

Sam’s breathing hitched. "It’s falling apart."

Lucifer shrugged. "Not quite falling apart. Wearing thin is more like it."

This time, he didn’t back away when Sam approached and took his hand to take a closer look.

"There must be a solution,” the human mused. “A spell, a ritual, something."

"The solution is called demon blood and at the moment I’m drinking so much it’s close to making _me_ sick."

"Something else, then! Don’t tell me that demon blood is the only possibility! I won’t lose you, not like this! I’d rather say-"

Lucifer clapped his hand over Sam’s mouth before he could say it.

"Don’t," he ordered in a low, threatening voice. Hardly any space remained between their bodies now. "I’m doing this for _you_! And I don’t regret it! Do you understand? I don’t regret anything about us! And I want it to stay like this!"

His lover nodded beneath his hand and Lucifer released him.

"There may be something else," he conceded.

"Great! Tell me and we’ll start researching."

The archangel laughed. "Can you break into Heaven’s library? Michael’s personal one? I don’t think so." He turned away, putting some distance between them. "The angels knew a ritual once. Long ago, back in the beginning when you humans were just primitive little creatures."

"I thought we were still that?" Sam tried to get a smile. He got a quirk of Lucifer’s lips at least. Yes, the devil had a sense of humor normal people didn’t really understand.

"I don’t know the ritual; I wasn’t interested then. My brothers know, of course, or have the chance to look it up."

"Why not ask Castiel then?"

He shook his head. "I’m talking about the archangels only, here. Angels on Castiel’s level, or even the likes of Zachariah, they don’t know the secrets the archangels do. We need one of them: Raphael, Gabriel,… or Michael."

Sam didn’t say it, but he definitely thought it: _Great. Just fucking great._

 

Sam broke the news at breakfast the next morning. Lucifer and Castiel were both with the Winchesters, drinking chocolate or simply staring while the humans ate.

"We need to catch an archangel," the younger Winchester announced.

Dean took it with feigned nonchalance and crammed more food into his mouth. "Okay," he replied, giving a perfect view of his half-chewed breakfast.

"That means Michael, Raphael or Gabriel," Sam continued.

"Awesome. If we’re lucky, Raphael is still hanging out in that circle of holy fire we made for him."

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "You did what?"

Dean smirked. "Me and Cas caught ourselves an archangel and put him in a bit of a spot."

"We thought he might know where our Father is," Castiel explained.

"And?" The fallen archangel inquired.

"He claimed that our Father is dead. He also claimed that you were the one to resurrect me, after Raphael had killed me."

"Oh? I didn’t realize you’d died." He shook his head. "I definitely didn’t resurrect you. I didn’t even know you existed. And as for our Father, if he was dead, I’d know."

"Raphael is nothing like what you remember him being," Castiel cautioned.

Lucifer waved him off. "Where did you leave him?"

"Waterville, Maine."

Lucifer disappeared, his wings making hardly a sound.

"Great," Dean grouched. "Now we get to explain to the waitress how one of her customers suddenly up and disappeared without her noticing anything."

He had hardly finished his sentence when the archangel was back.

"He’s gone," he reported.

"Great," the older Winchester repeated and took a large sip of his coffee.

"What about Gabriel?"

Castiel looked at him with huge eyes and refused to reply.

"What?" Lucifer demanded, insistent now. He was clearly about to lose patience. Sam put a hand on the archangel’s thigh to calm him, gripping him tightly through his jeans.

"Gabriel has been dead for centuries," the angel finally revealed.

"That’s a lie."

"No it definitely isn’t," Castiel shot back, unusually agitated. "We all felt it when his grace was destroyed!"

For a second, the archangel hesitated. But then he replied: "I don’t believe it."

This time, Castiel was the one to spread out his wings and fly off. He didn’t come back immediately either. Dean glared at the devil.

“Not cool, dude. Not cool.”

* * *

Sam would have thought that Lucifer would now fall into much the same pattern as when he had been looking for God. But his lover didn’t leave. He started what Dean called “hunting and gathering”. Apparently, the Impala’s trunk proved to be well-stocked enough.

“I can call Gabriel here, all I need are a few ingredients,” the archangel told them.

Castiel was looking on, expression flat, his arms crossed over his chest. Dean nearly mirrored him, except that the Winchester was apparently willing to humor Lucifer. Sam wondered how Lucifer knew for certain that his brother was alive, while Castiel was equally certain that he was dead. But he hadn’t had the chance to ask Lucifer in private.

The archangel was not about to be stopped: he nearly glared at the mix of incense, herbs, blood or whatever he had gathered in there and snapped his fingers to ignite it. As it burned, he closed his eyes in deep concentration. Nothing happened.

“You can’t get a hold of him,” Castiel stated.

Lucifer looked irritated. “I can feel him. I know he feels me.”

“That sounds a lot like incest,” Dean threw in.

“But he refuses to come and he has disguised himself somehow. I can’t tell where he is.”

His hands balled to fists and clenched tighter and tighter, the angel’s every muscle tensing. It looked as if he was fighting some kind of mental war.

Suddenly, his eyes opened. “Got you!” He boasted.

The three onlookers practically snapped to attention. Someone started clapping their hands behind Sam and Dean and the brothers jerked around. It was the Trickster.

“Well done, brother. You know, if Michael had tried something like this as hard as you, I might have surfaced ages ago.”

“Gabriel!” Castiel exclaimed.

“This-“ Dean pointed at the small man as if clarification was actually necessary, “is Gabriel the _archangel_?”

“Guilty!”

“Brother,” Lucifer greeted him, the name like a sigh of relief and contentment. Not even Sam had heard the angel sound like this before.

“Hey, Luci. I hear you play nice with these boys?”

The devil wrapped a hand around Sam’s right wrist and gently pulled him to his brother.

“This is my vessel Sam.”

“Yeah, I know. Sam and I, we know each other _really_ well.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed through gritted teeth, “we do.”

Lucifer seemed pleased. Then they started exchanging stories, and the archangel’s expression hardened. When pressed, Gabriel revealed that he had been playing his role as a Norse god and trickster for centuries, how he and the Winchesters had met and Sam gave a brief recount of his less than pleasant second encounter with the trickster. At the end of it, Lucifer was angry and, if one knew to look close enough, disappointed.

“Don’t give me that look!” Gabriel exclaimed. “You and Michael started this whole thing! Your fight disrupted Heaven and I couldn’t bear it! So I skipped out of Heaven, sue me!”

“You owe me,” Lucifer pronounced.

“For what?”

“For Sam. I don’t care what you wanted to do, what your plans were. I don’t care if you go to Michael after this. I want the ritual to make a vessel permanent.”

“Your vessel is standing right next to you, bro. All he’s got to do is say ‘Yes, I do’.”

The other archangel’s forehead creased. “The ritual Gabriel. Do this for me and I won’t retaliate on behalf of my lover for your misdeeds.”

Gabriel studied them. “You’re serious about this.”

“As if you couldn’t tell,” he nearly whispered.

The brothers gazed at each other mutely for a while. At the end of the staring contest, Gabriel looked away.

“I have a condition.”

“Which is?” Dean demanded for them.

“You leave me out of this, whatever this is. I don’t want to hear you, or see you, or be called by you in any form again. Do you get that?”

“I had hoped that you might come with us, brother,” Lucifer offered.

For an instant, Gabriel’s face seemed to soften. “I’ll think about it.”

 

That night they shared a bed and skin-to-skin contact again. Sam couldn’t get enough of running his hands and lips over healed, nearly baby-soft skin. It was apparently a side-effect of the ritual, Gabriel had said, which would fade within a couple of hours. Sam planned to stay awake at the very least until it did.

A faint flutter of wings caught his attention, and Lucifer sat up behind him. It was Gabriel.

“Come to say goodbye?” The archangel asked.

“Something like that.”

Sam felt exposed, as if the other angel could see through the bedcovers and spy on him naked.

“I have no idea what you’re on. Or whether this will last at all. But if it’s real – if you really want this – for what it’s worth, I hope it works out.” He swallowed. “You deserve happiness, don’t think I don’t want that for you.”

The archangel settled down on the edge of the bed, Sam shifting until Lucifer was between him and Gabriel. Lucifer leant against the headboard.

“You don’t sound as if you’ve got much hope.”

Gabriel shrugged. In the dark he looked vulnerable, unprotected, the biting words he usually hid behind gone.

“Call me a pessimist.”

“Then I hope that we both find what we’re looking for.”

“What makes you think I’m looking for anything at all?”

Lucifer breathed a tired laugh. “You can’t tell me that you joined the pagans because they’re _better_.” Condescension practically dripped off his tongue.

Gabriel huffed and rose from the bed. “I should so kiss your boy-toy for that.”

Sam didn’t actually see anything, could only feel the air shift and heard a thwack followed by a small “Oww!” from the disguised trickster.

“Watch the wings, bro!” Gabriel complained.

“Get out before I make you.” His stern tone was belied by his contend expression.

“All right, all right.” He gave them a last, sincere look. “The next time I see you, you had better be at least as happy as you are now. You hear that, Winchester? Don’t disappoint me!”

The younger archangel threw Sam a small glare, then rose to his full, for Sam unimpressive, height. A clap of thunder and flashes of lightening heralded the unveiling of his wings, too many to count, which threw shadows on the wall.

Gabriel jiggled his eyebrows up and down. “Totally watching you.”

And because he always needed to have the last word, he didn’t give them time to reply and flew away.

Lucifer gave a small, amused chuckle and kissed Sam’s nape, not commenting on his brother’s antics. The Winchester turned into his lover’s body with a grumble. He didn’t quite know whether to hope that they saw the angel again soon or not.

* * *

The morning began late for them, and Dean and Castiel were already waiting for them at the diner. Dean took one look at Sam and said:

“Had a good nights’ sleep?”

Sam groaned as he sat down a bit too hard at the table.

“Yeah,” the older brother laughed. “I thought so.” He rolled his eyes fondly.

It was more progress than Sam had dared hope for just a couple of weeks ago. He sent up a small prayer of thanks. Who knew, perhaps God was listening.


End file.
